Burdens Of All Our Days
by blahblahblah97
Summary: 'And maybe that's why as she walks away- she always does- it feels like losing Raven for the first time.' The First Class would always be the ghosts that haunted Hank, yet each year he tries to bring Raven home. Will the burdens of their past let them move on?
**A.N.: Hey guys! Long-time no see. I know it's been ages since my last story but my life has been tipped upside down three times over, and I do have quite a few stories in progress of various lengths- generally a full blown story takes me over a year to write, I'm so slow and so easily distracted. This little thing had been playing on my mind for about a year now but I felt the push to write it before X-Men: Apocalypse comes out so the story can fit my own timeline better! It's just a short one shot but I hope you enjoy!**

 **P.S.- Counting Crows 'Possibility Days' was the song I had on repeat when writing this. It's perfect.**

 **But we carry the burdens of all of our days  
So I'm scared that you'll leave  
And you're scared that I'll stay  
It's an impossibility day.**

 **-'** **Possibility Days' by Counting Crows.**

Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters would never be able to get rid of the ghosts that walked its halls. At least that's what Hank thought. No matter what children filled the hallways, classrooms and grounds, it would always be the first class that haunted him.

Sean screaming as he jumps out a window, Erik smiling as he plays chess with Charles. Alex cracking jokes, even Moira yelling and bossing and generally being extremely authoritative.

It was filled with the ghosts of those that didn't make it to the house, adaptable Darwin, trying to be the hero, Angel, desperate to be seen as a person and not a side show.

Even Azazel, Riptide and Emma haunted him, people he couldn't change and couldn't save. The mansion was the younger versions of themselves- a bright scientist who just wanted to be normal, a professor who had high hopes and a girl who wanted to find her place in the world. The mansion was haunted by the ghosts of the people they once were, children playing at war.

It's purely coincidental at first. The ghosts seem to be loudest on the anniversary of the day that could have changed the future of mutants forever, and he feels the need to be there where it happened. Charles doesn't question it, like Hank doesn't question the fact Charles will lock himself in his room when the time in Cuba rolls around. He's as close as he can get to the White House grounds when he gets the distinct feeling of being watched. He turns and comes to a halt when he spots a familiar blonde head. His feet are moving before his brain can catch up. Raven looks surprised to see him and she can't decide whether or not to bolt, but seeing Hank is alone she stays where she is, waiting.

"Hi," she says lamely, and he gives her a hesitant smile.

"Hi."

After a pause, he feels the need to explain. "I was just-" he begins when a delicate hand appears on his arm.

"I know," she admits, and she does. Raven was the one to be the face of the change. She made the decision that meant that mutants were more widely acknowledged and weren't hunted. Raven knew what it felt like to have the weight of responsibility on her shoulders, and she felt every single one. Somehow, as they stand side by side watching the world go by without a care in the world, not knowing the gravity of what almost happened here, it feels a little like fate. And maybe that's why as she walks away- she always does- it feels like losing Raven for the first time.

Hank doesn't tell Charles that he saw her- he fears the man couldn't handle losing her again.

Though he can't convince her to come back with him, he meets her every year for ten years, it's the only time she'll keep in contact. He never sees her coming- she's always disguised as someone else- but when it's just them she looks like Raven- at least as much as she can without looking blue. They talk about the past and the present, but they daren't talk about the future. She asks about Charles and it's the only time her voice will break, because though she'd loathe to admit it, she would never stop caring about the boy who gave her a home.

They talk about the friends they lost and she whispers that she still wakes up hearing them screaming. Hank admits that he feels like it was his fault- it was his invention, after all, that found them. These confessions pass between them and disappear into the air, only for the other's ears. They get coffee, sit on a bench and gaze over the spot where their path could have taken a very different direction.

Hank never tells Charles where he goes each year, and Charles doesn't ask- they've come to realise that their friendship needs to be sacred from telepathy. Each year as the sun starts to go down and their conversation has turned to companionable silence, he'll ask her if she's coming home. She sounds weary as she answers that it's not her home, but they both know that's a lie.

Eventually as they hold each other tightly before parting ways, she'll whisper, "not yet," and Hank knows that there is hope.

Sometimes the meetings aren't a happy reunion, and they're filled with anger and resentment and bitterness and regret because she left, she left them and he left her go and he didn't come with her. They always crumble, though, and the anger never lasts, not because it isn't validated but because they have 364 days to be angry, and only one together.

One time as dusk settles over the park and everyone begins to head home he tells her he loves her- for she is fierce and mad and beautiful and intelligent and strong, but she is broken- but she isn't overly surprised when she tells him it isn't enough.

She's in a café reading a newspaper when she hears about an incident at the school, the report saying no one was harmed except for a teacher- Hank McCoy. Her heart is in her throat but she can't go to him, she just can't, and instead she waits for their day to roll around and when he shows up, still tender and bruised, she's never been gladder to see him in her life.

He's getting older and yet she looks the same, reminding her that he is also a ghost that haunts her, and Raven doesn't want Hank to be yet another regret.

So ten years to the day that she made a right and a wrong choice in Washington, Hank sees her approaching him for the first time. She has a bag on her shoulder and she speaks more freely than he's seen in years, open about her regrets and longing to see Charles. The ghosts that have haunted them for so long must have finally found peace, because when he asks her,

"Are you ready to come home?"

She slips her hand into his, kisses him and says yes.


End file.
